Pruning Limb and Life

It was a beautiful lilac limb, lush and green. It had contained several flower blossoms in the spring. However, it grew so long and low that it was interfering with the sun and rain that the neighboring peonies and jalapeno pepper plants need. It pulled on the main branch from which it sprouted.

It hurt to cut it off. 

My husband and I did it anyway. 

We saw an immediate improvement in the appearance of the shrub, and although this sounds a bit far-fetched, I could almost imagine the lilac and all of the plants around it breathing a sigh of relief. I know that pruning that limb helped the entire plant community in that area of the yard. 

It got me to thinking. 

What heavy limb am I hanging on to?

Perhaps that limb is lush and full of life, but perhaps it is also weighing me down and shading other areas of my life that cannot thrive under its crowding. 

It's going to hurt, but I am going to have to cut if off. 

When that happens, will I, along with all of the people closest to me, breathe a sigh of relief? I wonder.

Until next time,

Tracy

Creative Loops

I find that all of my creative pursuits seem to follow a cycle. On, off, on, off...in continuous loops. I write, crochet, or read voraciously for a bit and then, when I finish a project or get to a stopping point, I slow down or stop. A little later, I pick it all up again. 

 For the longest time, I thought something was wrong with me. I would watch friends seemingly remain steadfast and consistent in their pursuits, while I seemed to be intermittent. If I truly feel so passionate about my creative activities, I often wondered, then why do I have these times of inactivity? Sometimes I felt like an imposter. Self-doubt would creep in. I would think that perhaps I am not really a "true" writer, crocheter, avid reader, etc. I felt shame and guilt around these thoughts. 

 I realize now, though, that times of creative "rest" do not discredit me as a writer, crocheter, reader, etc. In fact, I believe that, for me, these times are when the creative part of my brain recharges and preps for the next go around. Perhaps these times of "rest" also allow me to observe all that is around me to see what other creative avenues interest me. I have one creative life. I would like to sample lots of creative pursuits. Some will stick, some will fall away, but I will love the journey of discovering life through my creative activities. 

 I will always be a writer, crocheter, and reader, although I may not always be in the middle of a project or writing/reading every day. This is okay. I enjoy what I do, and I love savoring the feeling of satisfaction that comes from a completed project. I am learning to flow with the creative loops in my life. How sweet the ride!

One Small Spark

 

Photo by Jamie Street
 on Unsplash

I hit a dry spell with my writing starting in late July. Life was happening at a hectic pace. I felt numb. I wrote a little here and there, but it wasn't consistent and it wasn't anything of substance. I felt blah about it all. I worried that maybe I was done with writing. The thought made me sad. "Writer" is a part of my identity. How can I be done with writing? 

 I continued living my life moving with its ebbs and flows. I feared that in this frame of mind I would not finish the novel I am so near to completing. My writing group attendance became spotty and inconsistent. Maybe, I thought, I am not really a writer after all. Again, that thought made me sad. I have always loved writing.

Then, completely out of the blue, I found myself thinking about a subject for a new novel. Watching my granddaughter play outside, I began to think about family members no longer with us who would have adored her. Suddenly a story idea sprang into my head, and I felt a spark of excitement at the thought of writing about it. I began to jot down notes to keep the idea safe. This spark reignited the writer inside of me. 

I find myself going about my days once again thinking as a writer. I am glimpsing inspiration for future writing projects in random places, and I feel giddy thinking about them. I am reconnecting with my writing group. Reuniting with my writing identity feels right and brings me joy.

Photo by Jamie Street
on Unsplash

I don't know what prompted the writing dry spell, but I am so glad that the one small spark ended it! 

Until next time,

Tracy

Yes or No?

It is time again. 

Time to renew my subscription to a community of creatives I have participated in for the past several years. 

Honestly, I have been thinking about not renewing this time and saving the money. This thought causes me some angst, though. 

Time to get out my mental pan balance. 

Photo by Elena Mozhvilo on Unsplash

I weigh the cost against the benefits, the pros and the cons. 

The community is a part of my creative lifeline. Here is what I gain from being in this community:

• Friendship. I have made many friends in this community. Although I would likely remain connected to many of them outside of the community, I think that it would be less regular, and I like the weekly constancy the community provides.
• Inspiration. The brilliant, creative minds in this community inspire me. I am amazed by the things that they accomplish. Knowing people with such talent encourages and motivates me to explore my own creativity.
• Structure. It's so easy to allow life to intervene and find myself drifting away from the goals I have set for myself. The scheduled meeting times keep me accountable and on track. 
• Connection. These people get the struggle of creative work. They're in the midst of it, too. Also, they have a wealth of craft knowledge and the ins and outs of taking your craft out into the world. 

It is clear to me that the benefits far outweigh the cost. This community feeds my creative soul. 

I tuck away the mental pan balance. The answer is clear. With confidence and a couple of clicks on the computer, the renewal is complete and the confirmation email is in my inbox. My creative soul feels like all is right with the world.

Until next time,

Tracy

The (He)Art of Noticing

This past hot, sticky Sunday, my youngest granddaughter, my great niece (who is also my granddaughter's best friend), and my great nephew hung out at my house for a pool day. Towels and pool toys were gathered, sunscreen generously applied, and my husband ushered the three kiddos to the pool. I stayed behind a moment to clean up the strewn clothes, etc. when I noticed this on the window of the French doors leading out onto the patio:

Now honestly, my first thought was, "Ugh. That sunscreen is going to be a greasy mess to clean." But then I noticed the heart in the middle of the hand print, and I had to smile. 

My youngest granddaughter has a knack for unintentionally leaving behind hearts. For example, one day she dropped jelly on the floor while making a sandwich. I reached to clean it up and found this (It looks curiously like an elephant's head, too, don't you think?):

                                       

Another time when she was three, she was playing in potting soil as I repotted plants. When I finished my task, I started to sweep and found this:

She had no heart-shaped cookie cutters or stencils of any kind, and she was only three at the time, so her fine motor skills were not that sharp yet. She was just playing in the dirt and this happened. 

She has a knack for leaving behind heart-shaped messes. I find them a wonderful reminder of her visits and a source of awe. I am always left shaking my head and trying to figure out how she manages to leave behind so many hearts without any real awareness that she has done so. 

I also find these little heart-shaped mementos a great boost to my imagination. Ideas for fiction stories run rampant in my head for a while after finding them. 

By the way, in case you are wondering, the sunscreen handprint is still on my window. There will be time to wipe it away later. For now, it reminds me of the fun we had on Sunday and inspires creative thinking. Most of all, it encourages me to slow down and enjoy all of our moments together. Time speeds by much too quickly and my littles will only be small for a short while. 

There is plenty of time to clean. For now, I will enjoy the view.

Until next time,

Tracy

Reading and Writing Magic

I stare at the page. Nothing. No new words. Anxiety builds inside of me as I watch the clock. Time is short. My writing goal will be unmet on this particular morning. With a sigh, I consider my three choices: 

1. continue to stare at the screen a few minutes more and increase my frustration,
2. forget it and switch my thinking to work-related matters and live with my frustration, or
3. open the Libby app on my phone and listen to my latest fiction read as I begin my other work for the day. 

I decide to turn on the Libby app and let the magic of another time and place wash away my frustrations and provide a boost of inspiration.

Reading or listening to books (especially fiction) rejuvenates my creative thinking and writing in ways that nothing else does.  I notice craft moves, unique author voices, and how the words make me feel. I get lost in the story, for sure, but as a writer, I find myself thinking about why I am getting lost in the story. It's a delightful way to reset my brain and think about my writing in new ways. 

The next morning I face the blank page once again. Only this time, I see it through different eyes. The frustration is gone and the words begin to flow. 

Reading is so much more than a functional skill. It's pure magic.

Until next time,

Tracy

A 17-Year Wonder

The screeching noises that had surrounded the yard all day began to quiet. The sun sank low in the west and beautiful pinks, oranges, and mauves repainted the light blue sky. My husband and I knew we would need to look quickly to find what we sought before darkness made it impossible. 

We didn't need to look far. They became immediately visible on nearly every surface. Empty cicada shells. They were on fence posts, the swimming pool, iris leaves, the sides of the house and garage, and most of all, the trees. The trees were loaded. We had to walk with care as there were many in clusters on the ground. 

A walk out to the maple tree on the southeast corner of our property revealed even greater wonders. Cicadas walked up the tree to shed their shells and some waited patiently to harden off so they can fly, mate, and set the stage for the next emergence in 2038. We watched in fascination until nightfall made it impossible to continue. 

We left them in peace to continue their mission.

Nature inspires such curiosity and imagination.

If you want to know more about the 17-year cicadas, you can learn about them here.

Until next time,

Tracy